


Cherub Blood

by JeckParadox



Series: English's Bizarre Adventure [1]
Category: Homestuck, ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: (In other words A LOT OF IT.), Alternate Universe - Jojo's Bizarre Adventure Setting, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 08:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5959831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeckParadox/pseuds/JeckParadox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caliborn and Calliope are orphan twins who have been taken in by the illustrious English family. But when his ambition leads him to attack his sister and adopted family, and then to don a certain Stone Mask, only Calliope can stop him.<br/>A Jojo's Bizarre Adventure and Homestuck Fusion crossover. Homestuck characters in a Jojo-like universe.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cherub Blood

Part 1: Cherub Blood

_August, 1909_

Placing the mask on his face, Caliborn gave a now hidden smile. His sister laid bleeding on the floor. His adoptive father was lying on the ground, groaning from kick he had given him. His wife stared at him in pure horror at his actions. His adoptive mother watched from an upstairs balcony, in denial of the sight below her.

Reaching down, he dipped his hand into the blood of his twin, prompting his wife to shudder, and held his hand over his masked face. The police surrounded them, guns raised. "Drop the knife!" The captain ordered, and Caliborn tossed it away from him. Right into the face of the captain. His wife was screaming now. 

"Shut up bitch." Caliborn growled, and Damara quieted, fearful for her life. "Today... I become a God." He announced. "Everything I deserve, is coming to me right now!"

"Shoot the bastard." One of the policemen shouted, and Caliborn's hand dropped, rubbing his sister's blood across the surface of the Stone Mask. The talons of the mask reached out and sank into his skull. A second later, dozens of bullets riddled his body, flinging him through the window and onto the lawn. 

One policeman approached the broken window and looked down, and let out a terrified gasp at what wasn't there. "He's gone!" The policeman shouted back at his comrades. 

"Good! It's what that madman deserved. Poisoning every member of his family... We need to get these ones some help!" Another shouted. "Call a doctor, we might still save them!"

"No! He's... he's run off or something!"

"What?! We shot him into swiss cheese!"

"He's not there!"

"Caliborn..." Calliope groaned, as a police officer helped her up. 

* * *

 Since that horrible night several weeks had passed. There had been no trace of Caliborn since he was launched from the window, or of the Stone Mask Caliborn donned before he betrayed all of them. She just didn't understand. The two of them had never much liked each other, that was true, but after their father wasted away, and the English family took them in, it had felt like Caliborn was getting better!

Sure, he still swore like a sailor, was misogynistic, rude, manipulative, full of himself, ungodly stubborn-

But at least he was getting better. She had such high hopes for him. He had fought his way through a prestigious academy despite his learning disability, graduating with honors. He was making progress in learning the English family business, at least on the accounting side of things. Of all things, he had even gotten married. 

Which just made his whole plan ridiculous. Poisoning Sassacre, attempting to frame her in view of their adoptive mother...

None of it made sense. Caliborn was already the heir. He would have been rich whether Calliope was there or not, she was only getting a fraction of what is due to him as the English family Heir. He would have received his inheritance eventually, even if he had no love for their adopted father, why couldn't he just wait?

She supposed she would never know. If she ever saw Caliborn again, it would be too soon. 

"Hey." A tall man, who, stuck in her thoughts she didn't notice until that moment stood up and watched her. 

"Um. Hello?"

"So, tell me if you've heard this one before: Perfectly nice boy is just making his way in the world when he finds a wicked sweet Stone Mask just lying around on the sea shore or something, and he decides to keep it, and then one day, just for a giggle, this guy puts on the Stone Mask, and oh crap he's suddenly a blood sucking immortal child of the night?"

She blinked. Then narrowed her eyes. "Actually he was a bastard before he put on the mask, but that's quite close. I've not heard about any sort of blood-sucking, but he somehow ran away from the manor even after being shot multiple times, without even leaving a blood trail to track him with."

"Shit." The man got up and frowned. "Looks like we've got vampires." He looked at her. "Now, you wouldn't happen to be the heroic type-"

"No. I'm afraid not. I prefer a more passive approach. If you do know anything about Caliborn, it would of course be appreciated, and I'll give it right to the police-"

"Don't you read horror stories? The cops are always useless. Cops and parents. Any authority figure, really."

"Who are you?" She asked. In answer, he punched her in the stomach, making her collapse and suck in a breath possibly deeper than anything she ever had before.

"The Name... is Andrew Hussie." 

"What did you do?!" She growled. Caliborn was the larger of the two, but they were twins, and they had both worked and played just as hard. If some ruffian was going to attack her on the road, she would not be unprepared. She was no damsel. Cracking her knuckles, she took another deep breath, deeper than normal, and let loose a punch on the strange man. The fist made direct contact with the man's face, but Calliope found that rather she was flung backwards instead. 

Scrambling back to her feet, she noticed that Hussie was walking towards her with a smug grin she knew quite well on his face. Growling, she got into a boxing stance and waited for him to come into range. Still a few feet away from her, she was shocked when he threw a punch into the air- and jumped back in surprise as his arm seemed to _stretch_ impossibly close. 

"This, kiddo, is Ripple. Or Hamon. Or Sendo. Whatever the hell you want to call it. I personally like the term _Breath_. It also kills vampires dead."

"Why are you attacking me?"

"I'm just showing you what someone with Breath is capable of." He shrugged. "I hit you square in the stomach, you should be out of breath, dazed a little bit maybe. But you're just overflowing with pumped-up juices, aren't you?"

The man was right. Despite being knocked around she felt fine, better than fine even. "This... this is magic, or something!"

"Sure. Why not?" He seemed to shrug quite a lot. "So... want to learn?"

Did she want to learn magic? 

"Hell Yes!"

* * *

 

"It's quite obvious that. In retrospect. I really should have gone for the heart." Her brother sat in a throne, surrounded by monstrous abominations of human and animal. The minions that she and Hussie dispatched on the way up were just as horrible. Zombies, vampires. Reanimated corpses. So many bodies. 

"Caliborn." She growled. "I think it's about time we ended this nonsense."

"Yes. All nonsense should end right now." He got up, and his eyes burned an intense red, where before they were the same shade of olive as her own. With a single motion he tore his cape from his shoulders and stretched freeing up his joints for the battle to come. 

Taking in a deep breath, her body crackled with Breath, with a shout, she stomped the ground in front of her and sent out a wave of sunlight energy that immolated Caliborn's horrible creations. The Lord of the castle however merely jumped as the wave of light murdered his minions and landed flawlessly in front of her. Her fists flung out rapidly, each time crashing into her brother's own. That should have been the end of it, but the creeping, dead chill growing in her fingers put an end to that brief hope. Jumping backwards Calliope massaged her freezing fingers with her own Breath, thawing them with minimum damage. Her teacher shot out like a rocket, sending a Breath-charged kick into the chest of her brother, only to be deflected by a large patch of ice that appeared out of nowhere on her brother's skin. 

"I've not been idle, sister. I've been learning how to use this wonderful power called being better than everyone." He shot forward, inhumanly fast, his fingers sharpened into claw points, the ice coating them glistening in the torchlight. "Your Breath is meant to go through flesh. Weak, human, bodies. But you aren't prepared for ice." 

Hussie swore, and pulled out a pistol, pumping his Breath energy into the barrel, and through it into the bullet, before firing it. Caliborn caught the bullet, letting it crash into and embed itself into his iced-over palm. Once the bullet stopped crackling, he unfroze his hand and his vampire flesh went to work healing the injury, expelling the bullet and leaving him unmarked. "You're so fucking doomed." He said, a wide, evil grin on his face. 

"Shit." She swore, and pulled out her own pistol. Charging it with Breath, she fired all five shots into him. Caliborn laughed, until he found that both of his eyes, in self-defense, had frozen, and then shattered upon impact with the bullets. The other three had struck each shoulder, and his nose. Robbed of his eyesight, his sense of smell, and his arms, he was at the mercy of Calliope's tackle. Waiting for the Breath to dissipate he blindly stumbled around the room at random, attempting to avoid any possible attacks.

"That was genius." Hussie praised, before taking a breath and unfurling into an acrobatic pirouette that came to its end in Caliborn's stomach. The crackling energy of Breath expanded from the man's foot, and Calliope winced as her brother's stomach seemed to melt away, transforming into the almost molten remains that the vampires and zombies crumbled into in the sunlight or under their Breath. Caliborn screamed bloody murder as he seemed to collapse, his entire upper body no longer properly supported without his stomach area. Not letting up, Hussie delivered one more blow after another, Calliope supporting him from the side, firing more Breath-Charged bullets or giving a good kick to her brother as well. 

It seemed to be going well. "Your reign of terror comes to an end here, on this balcony overlooking a cliffscape host to innumerable gorgeous stallions." Hussie taunted, standing over the fallen form of Caliborn and reloading his pistol. Calliope trained her own gun on her brother, and bit back any pangs of empathy she still felt for him. He was burning, melting, except for the patches of his body which were frozen. But she could tell he was still alive, already the veins were pulling back together, the muscle between them re-knitting. "I started all this shit, when I found that damn Mask. And tonight, I'm going to finish it. Why don't you think over your mistakes **_while you die_** -" he stopped speaking as he felt a growing pain in his leg, glancing down, he saw a half-dozen veins that had snaked out from Caliborn's body, that pierced his foot, and already were draining him at a terrifying rate. He dropped his gun and instinctively reached to his leg. His foot burned as the blood from the rest of his body poured into the limb, while his own hands became deathly cold and shivered as they shriveled. 

He tried to take in a breath, but the pain was beginning to send him into shock. Calliope, thinking quickly, severed the veins with a Breath-infused chop of her hand, but Caliborn took their moment's distraction and picked up the gun that Hussie dropped. The woman fired quickly at him, but he already saw her strategy coming, after all, she had already used it once on him. The bullets embedded themselves in Caliborn's muscular arm, none reaching his face. Having already counted six wounds, he grinned and lowered his arm. 

Feeling the cold embrace of death Hussie ripped Calliope's pistol from her hands, charging it with the little Breath Energy he could summon, and flung it into Caliborn's face. The white pistol clunked into his target's head, and bounced off, leaving a gun-shaped burn in Caliborn's face, and making the vampire scream in rage and pain. The vampire raised Hussie's pistol and took aim. 

"Well kid. I'm sorry." Hussie said simply, placing his hand on Calliope's face. "I failed you." He closed his eyes, and in a moment of extreme focus he took a deep breath. "Please... accept this. My final Breath." The power poured into Calliope, and she shivered with the energy she had accepted into herself. Hussie seemed to age forty years in that single breath, and began to fade. The fading shifted into a very quick simple halt of all life signs as Caliborn emptied the remaining bullets in Hussie's gun into its former owner's face. 

Screaming in rage, Calliope set down her dead teacher and tackled Caliborn, forcing them both over the edge of the balcony. She gulped own air and gripped Caliborn's leg, pouring as much Breath as she could, sending the energy down his limb, wracking it with glowing, molten, cracks. The two of them crashed into the ground, and laid still. Caliborn, unfortunately still faster in recovering, tried to get up to his feet, but found that the leg his sister had grabbed was utterly destroyed. He groaned, knowing how much blood it would take to grow back from scratch. 

As he eyed his sister, groaning with pain from the impact of the fall, his lips curled into a savage grin. Bending down, his mouth opened wide, and Calliope screamed as her brother ripped her leg in two at the knee. Sticking her leg onto his still-molten stump, he pressed his hand into the ground next to her, sucking in her spilled blood through his fingertips. Not knowing what else to do, she took a breath and electrified herself with Breath energy, sending ripples through her own blood, and up Caliborn's hand. It did not explode as his leg had, but the veins in his arms grew a deep, magma red, and trailed its way through his body. He screamed in rage, and pulled himself away from her, both twins a bloody mess.

She watched, cursing her brother, her own weakness, and the foolishness of her teacher, as for the second time her brother walked away from her mortally wounded, disappearing from view. She knew, just knew, that this wouldn't be the last of him. 

When she gathered enough concentration to pull herself into a better position, she tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and attempted to bind the wound on her leg. Even now, she could feel Andrew Hussie's Breath reverberating within her. She focused all her efforts into her leg, sealing the wound with her power. Her brother would be back, and she would have to stand up to him. No one else could. In only months, her brother had slaughtered the majority of the small town that he had decided to occupy. 

Once she was confident that she wasn't going to bleed out, she began to limp toward the wild horses. If she could grab one, she could tame it instantly with her Breath power. She would recover... and then she would go back on the hunt. 

Alone. 

She sighed, crying freely for her fallen mentor as she used her Breath to manipulate one of the many wild horses into carrying her back to town. Horses were her mentor's favorite animal. He had told her so multiple times. How ironic his demise would happen in proximity to some.

**ANDREW HUSSIE: DEAD**

* * *

 

 Caliborn was, above all else, a determinator. His ambition was absolute. His willpower indomitable. He learned things slower than others, but through sheer hard work, he had proved himself as top of his grade, even outdoing his sister, to whom everything came easily. He found a woman that he could tolerate, and used the wealth he had earned, yes, earned, to get her to agree to marry him. To get his fortune he had murdered his own father, in a way no one realized was murder, so that he would be adopted. He came into wealth by his own efforts! And he would finalize that by killing his sister, a bitch who had always mooched off his efforts and sought to sabotage him, and killing his adopted father. 

He would have inherited everything, and avoided any jail time by making it look like the poisoning was his sister's idea to their adopted mother, whose testimony wouldn't be doubted by anyone, and who had no claim to the family fortune. It had all almost succeeded. He had almost become the absolute, only, owner of all of English's property. With everything he ever wanted. 

The Mask was only meant to be a fallback plan. 

When he used it on that bum, and summoned a monster destroyed by the sun, he had decided against using it to murder his sister, who had been researching it. He considered using it on himself, but he never wanted to fear the sun. 

In the end, he did, though. Everything fell apart. His wife was hiding from him somewhere within English Manor. His sister had discovered his plot to frame her, and exposed him in front of their mother, just as he intended to do to her. And in front of some police officers to boot. The Stone Mask was the only option left. 

Caliborn began laughing, maniacally, tormented, amused, insulted, and enraged all at once. The universe had screwed him over once again!

But this time he would screw the universe right back. Everything would be his eventually. 

He brought down a nearby horse and drained it of all its blood. The quality wasn't the same as a human's, but it was enough to at least begin regenerating his wounds. His sister's leg began to integrate into his own leg, and he smiled. The two were twins, alike in everything but gender and personality. The new limb seemed to be accepted by his body without question. As he marched into the distance, his mind made one fantasy after another of murdering his family. Of wealth, fortune, and destruction. His wife, his future children. 

But then again, he supposed he had no need for children any more. What use was a legacy now that he was immortal? He shambled into a nearby abandoned ranch, and broke his way down into the cellar, burying himself in the darkness as he slept away the daylight.

* * *

 

She would not return home until Caliborn was finished. 

She swore to whatever gods were listening, on that promise. Marching out confidently with her new wooden leg, she followed Caliborn's trail on horseback. Reports of bodies of people and animals, drained of all fluids, led her from town to town. Caliborn had created a small army of zombie and vampire minions before, but now seemed to be more concerned with simply getting as far away from her as possible. Or perhaps he was baiting her. Sometimes the bodies left behind were missing a leg. And each time she saw it, she knew that Caliborn would be waiting for her at the end of his trail of blood. 

 

It was a dark and stormy night, because what else could it have been?

She saw the coffin, marked with her brother's signature ~~U~~  being loaded onto the boat, and jumped aboard. She fought through the staff, and searched through the whole ship, searching desperately for the container, but by the time she found it the ship was well off shore, and the coffin was empty. 

By the time she got back to the deck of the ship, the sun was setting, and every other person on board was a zombie. Enraged at the waste of life, she systematically took out every undead she came across, until there were only the two of them. 

Caliborn grinned.

Calliope grimaced.

Infusing her Breath into the sea mist-covered wood she sent shockwaves of shining energy rushing towards Caliborn's feet. He simply walked towards her, almost at a casual pace, as he froze the ground under his feet with mere momentary contact. The ripple of her Breath halted against the sudden wall of solid liquid. Anything could channel Breath, for everything vibrated. But Breath did not conduct well through a change of state. When struck by an impact meant to pass through water, the vibration will not carry through ice with the same rhythm. And without the proper rhythm, Breath was useless.

Caliborn reached out to grab her, but was surprised when her own fist shot forward. Taking a page from Hussie's book, she dislocated her own arm bones in order to increase her range. The vampire dodged backwards just barely in time to avoid the punch of Breath. Wincing as her bones snapped back into proper place, she took the offensive further, swinging punch after punch at her brother, who in response could only dodge or take risky blocks. 

If she could force him into the water, she would win. The seawater would conduct her Breath like oil to flame. If she could hold him on the deck until the sun rose in the morning, she would win. If she got a clear hit to his thick skull with a Breath Overdrive, she would win.

"Sister. If you would indulge in a pointless distraction. I would like to ask you something." he spoke, his disjointed speech becoming even more eerie with the thickness and confidence that came with his vampiric accent. It was as if, after the transformation, the Evil in his voice became something tangible. "This power you're using. This awful breath thing. I have deduced that you need to breath to use it. Because any idiot would realize it. Because you literally named it Breath."

Even as he spoke, she kept up her offense. In their dance they moved from one end of the deck to another. She divided her attention seamlessly and easily between attacking her brother and watching her surroundings. Looking for potential traps her brother might be manipulating her into, to searching for the chance to send him over the side.

"And so. My strategy becomes obvious." Her eyes shifted from the sea, to her brother's own eyes. She paused in shock as his pupils morphed before her eyes, glowing with- She would have screamed, but the two pressurized jets of blood, fired so fast they boiled and solidified at the same time, had shot through her throat like two very thin bullets. She choked, gasping for air. 

He had the advantage now. He slammed his fist into her gut, making her spit up more blood. When the drops hit his flesh he absorbed them into his skin. Taking her blood into his own, just as he had absorbed her leg. "Well Calliope. I think I win now. Finally." He gripped her throat, and lifted her into the air, cutting her breath off even more than it already was. She clawed helplessly at his hands as she suffocated. 

Acting in desperation, she pulled her pistol from its holster and fired into Caliborn's hand, making him drop her. Nearly slipping because of her peg leg, she rushed for the edge of the ship, making for the railing. Caliborn began laughing. "Are you sure you're going to run?" He growled. "If you don't come here. Right now. I'm not coming back. You'll never be able to catch me again, if you lose me here." His eyes narrowed, noticing her hesitation. "And I will kill so many people, 'dear sister'. I won. I am the better twin. The very least you can do is spend your last moments trying to stop me."

She stopped at the edge, and turned around, glaring at him, and refusing to break eye contact. Caliborn marched forward, his fingers sharpening into claws as he prepared to deal the death blow. He very nearly giggled as he swung his hand back, planning to decapitate her in a swift, single blow. At the very last moment she ducked under his extended arm and flipped over the side into the waves. Growling with anger, he gripped the wood and climbed quickly back aboard, only to see that his sister was nowhere on the deck. Muttering under his breath, he sniffed the air, following his sister's scent. Opening the door he climbed down the steps until he entered the engine room of the ship. Calliope was standing there, on top of his personally made sarcophagus. But more important than that was what she held in her hands, and what glistened on the floor of the engine room. Oil. Large amounts of it. 

"You'd kill both of us?"

"Obviously." She croaked out, her voice managing despite the tiny holes that had pierced her throat. "I'm protecting the world from your evil."

She waited for Caliborn to react. His face twisted with effort, trying to consider his options. Even if he left, Calliope could still ignite the engine. The entire ship would blow. He _thought_ he could survive that, but he wasn't absolutely sure. It wasn't worth the risk. 

But why wasn't she doing it? "Why haven't you, then? Are you afraid?"

"...Why did you do all this Caliborn?! Poisoning Colonel Sassacre, and trying to prove to Betty that it was me doing it? Putting on the Stone Mask, when you know what might happen, you've seen my research on it- were you trying to commit suicide, then?"

"Fuck no." Caliborn hissed. "I was going to kill you with it. But I had to test how it worked. I made some bum into a vampire, and then the sun killed him. The Mask was... a backup plan."

"But why the poison!?"

"Because I wanted to win!"

"Life isn't a game Caliborn! You don't win just because you end up with the most money!"

"Of course it is!" He roared. "Of course I do! I killed that drunken bastard who raised us, and because of that we got adopted! I made the decision, I earned my proper inheritance!" But his rage quickly turned to a smile. "You know Calliope. If you're going to kill both of us anyway. Do you want to play a game?"

"You always cheat."

"I don't cheat. Never. You're just a sore loser. Who had the dumb idea of willing to bend the rules in the first place!" He yelled.

"I don't want to play a game." She sighed, and then sucked in a deep breath, as if in preparation for screaming some kind of heroic speech with the last of her strength. Which is why Caliborn didn't see the Breath coming. The oil was an excellent conductor of the Breath energy, and had a lower freezing point than water. The energy coursed up Caliborn's body, filling both legs with burning magma-red cracks. He fell to his knees, and the destructive energy only spread faster. 

" _FuCK YOU_." He screamed, drawing his gun, stolen from Hussie, her mentor's gun, and fired into the oil at Calliope's feet. The blaze begun, then. 

The two twins were enveloped in the growing fire, and behind them the wall of machinery groaned in protest at the heat, at the lack of maintenance since all the engineers were first zombified, and then purified.

Moments later, the ship exploded. 

In the flash, a flaming figure, acting on instinct, grabbed the other, and shut themselves within the coffin, which was also on fire. 

**CALLIOPE ENGLISH: DEAD**

* * *

 

April 1910

"I still can't believe it." Sassacre English said, looking proudly over the twins. "...I'm not sure, whether fate is being kind to us, or cruel. To give us these twins so soon after our first two..."

The lady of the house, Betty Crocker English, looked down at the two children. Their mother, still resting from the birth, was in the other room. "Perhaps Sassacre, my darling, this is neither cruel or kind. It's... a second chance perhaps." She sighed sadly. Calliope and Caliborn, both dead. She still hardly believed the stories. The survivors of her son's rampage regarded Calliope as a savior, wielding an equally supernatural power as her son. The Stone Mask, which she inherited from her own mother, had disappeared with her son, and she could only pray that it was resting with him on the bottom of the Atlantic with his sister.

Still shaky, Damara walked in, the poor girl had been hit the hardest by Caliborn's betrayal. She had nearly worshipped the boy when they went to school together, but even after being married for more than a year, she found that he had no softer side she could appeal to, nothing about him that could be reformed. Merely mellowed. Edges dulled, but not removed. The fact that he was willing to murder his sister and father, and had threatened her that night as well, the woman carrying his children, had struck her deeply. 

She walked into the room, and looked down at her children. "...He..." She began hesitantly, her english still heavily accented, "...He wanted the name to be something... simple." She said, near to tears. "Jake, if it was a boy. Jane, if it was a girl."

"How lucky we got both." Sassacre said, wrapping his arm around his daughter in law. On the other side, Sassacre's wife gently rubbed the heads of the two children. "Jake and Jane Crocker-English." He glanced at her. The names of course, were to show that they were the heirs of both the expansive Crocker Fortune, and the inventive English Fortune. "Or perhaps... you'd prefer them be named Megido? Or perhaps Ophiuchus, after their father?"

"...I don't want them to have any connection with that horrible man." She said, determined. "If they never hear that name, I'd be happy."

"...Even if he turned down the wrong path, he was our son all the same." Betty Crocker English said. 

"He's a demon." She hissed. Cupping her hands first around Jake's face, and then around Jane's. "But these two are hope and life. The only good things about him."

"It is truly a shame they couldn't know their aunt though." Sassacre said, tipping his hat. Visions danced through his head of teaching the children how to hunt, ride horses, play pranks. His wife smiled down at them and imagined baking with them, teaching them maths and English and everything they would need to learn in the world. Damara looked down at them and saw only the face of their father, and the face of their aunt. The only thing it seemed they inherited from her was their deep black hair. 

Reaching a silent epiphany, seeing the faces of their grandparents, filled with such love for them... 

She walked out of the room, as if she were returning to her bed to rest more, but instead pulled on her coat and hat. She got into a car and had the driver bring her to the nearest town. From there she took a taxi to the next town after that, where she stayed at a hotel. She knew that the English couple would be good, loving parents to her children. Caliborn, she knew, was an absolute demon. But his sister, for the little she knew her, seemed to be an angel. But those were simply in their nature, or were instilled by their birth father during the first sixteen years of their lives, before they were adopted by the couple. The couple would treat her children right, and raise them to be good people.

But she wouldn't be able to do it. Not when every time she looked at them she saw their father and aunt's face looking back at her. 

It was better to leave them now, if she knew she wouldn't value them as themselves. 

Walking into the hotel, she paused at the sight of a rather strange doll sitting on the bed. Its head was a large, polished, white sphere, and its body appeared to be made of green and white felt.

_You know you're quite special, to be given such a treatment._

She whipped around, glaring in every direction. "Who are you? Where are you?"

The puppet rose up off the ground and hovered up to her, its featureless face somehow staring into her eyes, and into the depths of her soul. She knew, just knew, that it could see every thought she had ever had, and each that she had yet to make.  _I'm right here obviously. As for who I am; My name is Eternity Served Cold... but you can call me Doc Scratch. It did not take long to find you, as I know everything. You were always going to be here, at this moment. It did however, take a long and inconvenient amount of time to reach you. Luckily, time is something I have in abundance._

"Wh-What are you?!"

_I am an expression of my Master's will. That is all. Just as this is._

She found herself rising into the air, lifted by a hand she could not see, and she began to kick and scream. 

_Eggs, Biscuits. If you would._

Two men entered from the opposite room, the smaller absolutely exhausted nearly to the point of death, the larger watched over his comrade with concern. 

_Do not worry. Stitch will repair him when we return to the manor._

"Alright den Doc." The larger said, and summoned a strange metal box out of thin air. Damara stared at it, and began to worry if she was hallucinating, if this was all some dream created from the drugs meant to lessen the pain from childbirth.

_It is not._

She shivered, the voice seemed to come from the very center of the cue ball and radiate outwards. Without warning, she was shoved into the box, which seemed bigger on the inside. The door closed, and then opened a second later. The sky had changed, hours had passed, she knew. They were no longer in the hotel room. What kind of magic was this?!

_We call it Stand._

The two men and the puppet shoved her roughly back, and then climbed into the oven themselves. The next moment, a timer went off, and the door opened. 

More men were outside, and they were once more inside a room. "So Doc, I take it you got the Boss' Dame?"

_Of course._

"Not like I doubted you, just need confirmation she's the one."

 _She is, obviously. Now then, have you prepared the Lord's Sarcophagus? I know the answer, and yes. You did. Thank you. Well, it's time for me to die. See you in exactly nine hours._ The cue ball shattered, and, to her horror, her husband's head was inside. His eyes, bright and murderous red, lighted on her face. Soon, the rest of the puppet exploded, more of her husband summoned into existence. 

"Y-You're dead!" She screamed. "You can't be here!"

"Ah, if it isn't my favorite, finest bitch." He gripper her throat, and lifted her into the air, grinning evilly. "It took some effort to find you. Be grateful." He turned to the man next to him, and the grin became fanged. "Bring the Arrow. And the Mask."

"The mask?" She asked, before realization dawned. "No! No!"

Lord English's smile widened. "Welcome to the year 1921."

 


End file.
